


RWBY: Sub Rosa

by TiredOfTomorrow



Category: RWBY
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drugs, Gangsters, Gen, Robbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredOfTomorrow/pseuds/TiredOfTomorrow
Summary: A collection of Realistic Crime AU oneshots: Ruby and Yang make a withdrawal from the First Vacuo Credit Union, Blake laments her role as hitwoman in the White Fang cartel, and Weiss questions if the drug trade is the right path for her family's shipping business.
Kudos: 2





	1. Making a Withdrawal

**Author's Note:**

> A\N: Technically the first fanfic I created for RWBY, I wrote this last fall with the intention of this being the main multi-chapter fic I would focus on - a Realistic Crime-thriller AU with team RWBY being various shades of criminals, each with their own stories that would eventually converge in a noir-like fashion.  
> I got 3 chapters in with the story before I eventually scrapped it after I realized that the story I envisioned for the fic was going to be far too long and expansive for me to ever finish writing. I retooled some elements I had planned for this fic into another Crime AU longfic, Thieves Like Us, and basically let these chapters sit in my drafts before I revisited them and realized they might do well enough as one-shots. Seeing as how it's been a while since I published anything, and how it's gonna be a while before I have anything else ready to publish, I decided to just pull the trigger on these chapters for the time being.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

_Thursday, January 16th, 1:50 PM._

_Somewhere in the Kingdom of Vacuo_

* * *

Maybe it was the mugginess of the Vacuo air finally getting to her, but Ruby didn't even want to get out of the van and take the 20-second walk into the drab, little bank in front of her if it meant leaving the cool comfort of the van's air conditioning.

Granted, some of her suffering was self-inflicted, as she wasn't exactly dressed appropriately for the climate. With a thick maroon zip-up hoodie over a longsleeve t-shirt, paired with dark blue denim jeans, Ruby felt like a walking anomaly as everyone she saw since she drove into Vacuo was wearing something along the lines of tank-tops and shorts. But in the weeks prior, when she and Yang were casing the very same bank that was in front of her, it never got as hot and muggy as it did now.

The first time the two had cased the bank, they knew that this couldn't have been a more opportune branch to hit. The building was likely smaller than your average fast-food restaurant, but that made things easier for her and Yang, since there would be less of a chance for people to hide out in rooms. Given that Vacuo was already practically a barren desert, there was a small chance any bystanders noticing the robbery. But since this bank was on the side of a cracked, empty road that was 20 minutes from any highway, even if someone did witness the robbery and called the cops, the police's response would be slowed.

"You think that's him?" Yang asked in the passenger seat to the right of Ruby.

Parked on the side farthest from the bank's opening, Ruby was able to see every car pulling out and coming in to the bank's parking lot without having to crane her neck around. Consequently, Ruby was able to see exactly what Yang was talking about: a tan, beat up early 2000's Honda Civic had just sputtered into the parking lot and was now pulling into a parking space. It matched the make and model of the car that belonged to the Security guard that should be coming in to start his shift right around this time.

"I dunno. What's his plate?" Ruby replied.

"Gimme a sec," Yang said. Ruby glanced towards Yang and saw her reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a pair of binoculars. Yang then held the binoculars up to her eyes as she stared forward through the windshield, face hard as stone.

Ruby took this brief moment where she knew Yang was too focused to catch her staring to size her sister up and wonder to herself, "How on earth is Yang completely cool while I'm sweating bullets over here?" Hell, Yang was dressed even worse for the Vacuo weather than Ruby was: she was wearing a cracked, brown leather bomber jacket with a fur-lined collar along with thick and heavy cargo pants. Ruby thought she looked ridiculous with her get-up, every time she saw Yang it was like looking at an Eskimo in the middle of the Sahara. Despite all her clothes though, Ruby hasn't seen a bead of sweat of Yang once in the last hour.

"AJ19KL, Vacuo plate. That's his, right?" Yang inquired without moving, her eyes still glued to the binoculars.

"Yup, that's him." Ruby quipped.

Ruby twisted around in her seat to grab her laptop out of her bag behind her. Ruby also took a quick inventory of the back of the van to ensure that Yang's gear and "Plan B" was still in the back of the van.

Seeing the grey cloth sheet was still covering "Plan B" in the back of the van, she was satisfied that her little "secret weapon" was still safe. Yang had protested about bringing "Plan B" along, since it was heavy as all get out and would slow their van down in any chase, but Ruby convinced Yang it was better to be safe than sorry.

Ruby then placed her laptop in her lap. As she opened it up, the screen flickered to light, with a black and white screen with four camera feeds showing the inside of the bank appearing.

Getting access to the security camera feeds inside a bank was usually a challenge, and most of the time Ruby didn't even bother trying. But, since this was a First Vacuo Credit Union branch, Ruby knew that this branch had a "Stone Lake Security Consulting" security camera and alarm system, since Stone Lake was First Vacuo's go-to company when it came to security contracting. Stone Lake made the fatal mistake of becoming one of the first security companies to use wireless cameras. Although the company swore up and down that the wireless connection would be encrypted so no one could "hack" into the cameras, Ruby knew all she needed for full access was a Stone Lake employee's login credentials and password, which she was able to get through a gullible security guard and help from Yang's incredible email-scamming skills.

Looking at the live camera feeds, Ruby ran a quick head count and tallied up 3 tellers, 4 civilians and the branch manager. A heavy-set, cherry-faced woman soon walked into view of the cameras as she strode across the bank towards the bank's entrance doors. Ruby looked up from her computer screen and saw the woman through the windshield as she emerged from the bank doors not a few seconds later. The woman walked over to the beat-up tan Civic and approached the driver side window, which slid down as she approached. Ruby watched as the woman took a set of keys on a ring off of her tool belt and hand to the driver and as the two shared a few words.

"Cue Mrs. Haggerty handing off her keys to Mr. Corcoran, as expected," Yang said.

Ruby knew "Mrs. Haggerty" was Jane Haggerty, 37, security guard for Stone Lake, and "Mr. Corcoran" was Alec Corcoran, 22, also security guard for Stone Lake. After conducting countless hours of research into the security guards that work for this particular branch, Yang deduced that Alec Corcoran, at 5'1" and weighing only 102 pounds, would not impose much of a physical threat if confronted.

When casing the bank, Yang noticed another vulnerability with Mr. Corcoran in his pre-shift routine: Every day, at 1:55 pm, Haggerty would walk out of the bank, hand the keys to Corcoran, and then smoke a single cigarette for 3-4 minutes while Haggerty got in her car and headed home.

A whole 3-4 minutes where no security guard was in the building. That's all the time Ruby needed to kill the camera feeds and for Yang to make her move.

"I don't think any security guards are in the bank right now. Should I kill the camera and alarm systems?" Ruby asked.

"Now's as good of a time as any," Yang drawled.

Ruby nodded and brought up a command prompt window and began typing away. With just a few inputs, Ruby was able to reduce the four camera feeds to static.

"Done. What now?"

"Let our man finish his smoke. Then I'll trail him in, take him down and greet the crowd."

The bank had a key card access reader installed on the door so only customers with a valid membership card and security guards could get in and out, so Yang had to act quick and follow Corcoran in right behind him or she'll be locked out of the bank.

Ruby looked up and saw that Corcoran had begun his pre-work smoking ritual in front of his car. From his long, pointed face, his small stature, and the grotesque, greasy-looking man-bun sitting on top of his head, Ruby could tell Yang he was just the type of guy that she _hated_ , and was eager to knock this guy flat on his ass the minute he was through the bank door.

Yang turned around and grabbed her weapon of choice: an old Ithaca double-barreled shotgun. The gun was a family heirloom, and was their father's hunting shotgun before he died.

Ruby cringed a little at the sight of the poor shape the weapon every time Yang brought it out. The steel of the barrels was starting to rust a bit, the sight at the end had begun to chip off, and the wood on the stock was starting to warp. Ruby offered to clean the gun up countless times to Yang, but Yang would always deflect the request by saying she "liked the gun rugged, just like herself," or would tell Ruby to "go obsess over your own guns for once."

The latter insult from Yang stung a little whenever Ruby heard it, because...well, she already did obsess over her own guns, or any weapon, really. Whether it was a firearm, knives, clubs, explosives, etc., Ruby certainly knew all there was to it, and if she didn't, she'd spend hours just researching it. Weapons fascinated Ruby to no end, just as it had almost all her life. Her parents, teachers and other kids at school thought this was odd at best, or that she was a nutjob at worst, but Ruby couldn't help but admire how sleek and well-engineered a quality handgun is, or be amazed at how razor-sharp a bayonet's edge can be.

Yang reached into her pocket and fished out two shotgun shells and began loading them into her shotgun, all the while keeping her sight on the security guard Corcoran, still smoking away and now checking his phone. Ruby felt her chest tightening in anticipation, so she took this time to mentally prepare herself for what was about to go down and also remind herself of Yang's carefully-laid instructions. Once Yang had entered the bank and started to control the crowd, Ruby had about 20 seconds to pull the van up right in front of the entrance, effectively blocking any view of what would be happening inside the bank. At that point, Yang would be standing in the entrance to let Ruby inside the bank. Once inside, she'd help herd the people inside to somewhere Yang could keep an eye on all of them, and then collect all their phones.

"Remember, once we got everyone under control, get the manager to open the vault for you, then have him open lockbox 168," Yang said.

Of course Ruby remembered the last part; that lockbox was the whole reason the two were here in the first place. Someone wanted something in lockbox 168, so they passed the job along to Roman Torchwick, and then he passed the job along to Yang and Ruby. Whoever requested it was dishing out big bucks though: Ⱡ60,000 for Ruby and Yang each, plus a Ⱡ20,000 cut to Roman for facilitating the robbery. On top of that, 90% of the Lien that Yang and Ruby got their hands on in the bank was theirs to keep. Of course, being the greedy bastard he is, Roman tried to worm his way into a 30% cut of whatever money the two got, but he was happy with 10% after Yang told him she'd make a necklace out of his teeth if he kept asking for more money.

Corcoran was now clearly finished with his smoke, dropping his cigarette butt to the ground and snuffing it out under his shoe. Turning on his heel, he was now walking towards the bank entrance.

"Alright, I'm going in," Yang said in a low voice. Yang reached behind her and pulled out a gaudy, bright yellow motorcycle helmet with black flame vinyls on it. Yang gracefully slid the helmet over her head, snapped her double-barrel shotgun shut, and then grabbed a duffel bag from the floor of her seat.

"Showtime," Yang said in a fake, deep voice before opening the van door and then shutting it behind her, slinging her bag around her shoulder at the same time.

Ruby watched through the windshield as Yang walked briskly towards the bank entrance while holding her shotgun behind her back, hidden from view of the bank. Meanwhile, Corcoran was now swiping into the bank and opening the front door, oblivious to the rolling thunder trailing behind him.

Ruby could feel every bead of sweat trickling down her forehead as Yang was now practically bee-lining towards the security guard Corcoran. Ruby could feel her heart practically beating out of her chest, and her gut felt like it was getting crushed under a bus. All the mental preparation and planning for jobs never got rid of the anxiety and dread she felt right before the action started. What if something went wrong? What if they got in a shootout? What if they got arrested? All these thoughts always choked her up during every job.

Of course, all those thoughts flew out of her mind the moment she saw Yang raise her right foot, and in one swift kick, send Corcoran flying through the doorway and into the bank. The job was now fully underway, and it's now time the adrenaline kicked in.

Ruby quickly turned the keys in the ignition as the van engine roared to life. Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby spotted Yang swing her shotgun up against her shoulder, now pointed at the customers while she was likely yelling what Ruby could only imagine were expletive-laden commands. Ruby slammed the pedal against the floor of the van as it lurched forward and jetted towards the entrance of the bank. Fearing that she would almost spin out of control, Ruby slammed on the brakes and pulled the van up to the entrance of the bank, essentially blocking it and giving her only a 3-step walk into the bank.

Every inch of skin on Ruby's body felt like a live wire and she felt herself breathing heavily as she quickly turned the engine off and reached into the glove compartment of the van to pull out her weapon, a Beretta 92FS. At any other given time, Ruby would love to admire the gun, how sleek it's cold steel looked and how comfortable it felt in her hands from the custom grip, but her mind was locked solely on getting into the bank at the moment. Ruby opened the van's door and hopped out onto the concrete, slamming the door shut behind her. Before she started walking, Ruby slipped on her disguise of choice: a pair of cheap sunglasses, and a black surgical mask with roses embroidered on it. Ruby then pulled her jacket's hood over her head and began storming towards the bank entrance.

As if on cue, the door in front of Ruby swung open, with Yang holding the door open while simultaneously holding her shotgun towards the people within the bank. Through the bank, Ruby was able to see that all the people inside the bank, including the tellers, were now laying on the ground, their hands outstretched in the air.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Yang muttered as Ruby walked past, her voice muffled underneath her motorcycle helmet. Once Ruby was in the bank, she instinctively raised her gun towards everyone inside, eliciting shocked expressions and gasps of terror from practically everyone inside along with a loud shriek from one of the tellers.

"Oh my god, we're all gonna die!" the teller yelled at the top of his lungs from the far corner of the room.

"Hey, what the hell did I tell you about yelling, asshole!?" Yang barked from under her helmet. "Everyone better shut the hell up from here on out, or they're gonna get what Mr. Corcoran here got," Yang growled, before turning her head towards Corcoran, now at her feet and blood pouring from his nose. "Mr. Corcoran, do you want these people to get their faces bashed in?"

"N-no, ma'am-" Corcoran was able to get out.

"Then please, Mr. Corcoran, tell these folk it's in their best interest they keep their mouths shut," Yang briskly replied.

Ruby saw Corcoran pause for a second, then visibly choke on his words before he opened his mouth.

"F-folks, do what the lady says and we'll all be fine," Corcoran said in a quivering voice.

With the blood rush through her head now beginning to subside, Ruby was able to take in her surroundings and get a head count of everyone on the floor. Ruby counted 7 people, plus Corcoran the security guard, meaning that Yang had successfully rounded everyone up. On each of their faces, Ruby saw wide eyes filled with fear. Some of the people were visibly shaking, and the teller who yelled out earlier was now sobbing softly.

Ruby hated this part of robberies. Everything was an adrenaline rush, but looking at the sheer terror her and Yang inflicted on these people was like slamming into a brick wall. It tore Ruby up inside knowing how much pain she was causing these people.

"Bravo, Mr. Corcoran. I couldn't have said it better myself," Yang said. "To reiterate: Do every single thing that I say, or that my friend here says, and we will all be hunky-dory. We'll be on our merry ways in a bit, and all of you can go on with your days and catch the football game on later, or whatever."

Yang then graciously hopped onto a table in the middle of the room, her shotgun still pointed at everyone below her.

"Now, my accomplice here, Little Red, is going to collect your phones in this bag," Yang said while holding up a small cloth bag. "When she stops in front of you, you will camly reach into your pocket or purse and take out your phone, then reach up and put them in the bag. If you make any sudden movements, if you try to make an emergency call on your phone, or if you just do anything other than what I just told you to do, you will catch buckshot."

Yang tossed the bag to Ruby, who caught it in her right hand. Ruby then shook the bag open and held it in front of the hostage nearest to her, an older-looking man with greying hair and wearing a nice suit. The man whimpered, then slowly put his phone in the bag. Ruby could feel her gut begin to sink as she realized she would have to look every other person in the eyes and see the fear in their faces as they handed her their phones.

Once Ruby finally had all the phones in the bag, she looked around the bank and noticed a coffee machine in the corner near the lounge area. Ruby walked over to the coffee machine and, with the gun still in her right hand, grabbed the pot out of the machine and began pouring steaming hot coffee over the phones, eliciting gasps from the crowd.

"Pipe down. At least now you all have a good reason to upgrade to the new smartphones," Yang joked.

Ruby knew that this was Yang's part of the heist: acting as crowd control. Yang would never take an uncalculated risk that could jeopardize the job, but if she was presented with an opportunity to crack a joke or "do something cool," she almost always did it. Ruby sometimes wonders if Yang should just get into stand up comedy instead of robbing banks.

"Now, is the branch manager currently in today?" Yang asked.

There was a brief pause as all the hostages looked at each other, before the old man in the suit stood up from the floor.

"No, Ma'am, he's out sick today. However, I am the Assistant Manager of the branch," the old man said in a strong Southern drawl.

"Well, Mr. Assistant Manager, can you get the vault open?" Yang quipped.

"I-I can put in the code. But cause of the timelock, and the delay issues we've been having-"

"Jesus, can you open the vault? Yes or no?" Yang asked in an annoyed tone.

"I-Yes, but we'd have to wait for 2 minutes," the manager said.

"We got all the time in the world. Go put in the code, Mr. Assistant Manager. Little Red, you watch him.

Ruby expected the vault to have a time lock; every bank nowadays had some form of timelock. Ruby followed the Assistant Manager past the teller counters and towards a large and bulky steel door with a number keypad on the handle. The Assistant Manager began typing in the code, before clicking enter.

"We gotta wait now until the timelock is up, then the vault door should open," the assistant manager said.

"Alright," Ruby said with a nod.

"Alright, now all tellers, stand up!" Yang barked. Ruby heard the shuffling of feet as some people began to stand up.

"Tellers, in my duffel bag there are smaller bags. You will fill them up with all the money in the register. Do not put any bills with dye packs in them, do not trigger any alarms including the silent alarm. Now, git."

The tellers then quickly rushed over to the duffel bag, each one pulling out a smaller bag. All of them then walked over to the teller counter and began filling the bags with cash from the register.

"Let's go, pick up the pace people!" Yang yelled out.

Ruby knew Yang was bluffing about the silent alarm and dye packs, since Ruby had already disabled the silent alarm, and the dye packs...Well, Ruby had a plan for those as well.

Ruby looked over towards the Assistant Manager. He was visibly shaking, and looking on in horror as his tellers began emptying out the registers. It was times like these that Ruby wished she could comfort people, and just tell them that everything will be okay. Just anything to tell them that Ruby was still feels for them…

"So, uh, this your first time getting robbed?" Ruby quietly croaked.

Ruby felt the blood drain from her face once she realized what she just said. _Did she really just try to have small talk with someone she's robbing?_

"Wha-I...I, uh, yes. This is our first time being robbed, yes," the Assistant Manager sputtered out in a surprised tone.

"Oh. Huh," was all Ruby had to offer in response.

" _Idiot!_ " Ruby thought to herself. It was almost autopilot in her mind when Ruby opened her mouth. Still, what on earth possesed her say something that stupid?

The vault door beeped, and Ruby heard several clicking noises within the door, clearly indicating the door was now unlocked. Out of all the jobs she'd been on, Ruby had never been happier to see a vault door open than right now, sparing her from the awkward silence between her and the Assistant Manager.

"Open the door," Ruby commanded in a firm voice. The Assistant Manager sheepishly nodded and began to open the door. Ruby readied her pistol's aim at the door and steadied it with both her hands, just in case. As the door opened, however, Ruby lowered her gun as she was that not only was the brightly-lit vault devoid of any threats, there was a large pallet of dollar bills sitting on a table. As the Assistant Manager stepped forward, Ruby motioned for him to step inside the vault with her.

Ruby took a few steps into the vault and looked around. Almost all of the walls were lined with safety deposit boxes. Ruby's eyes quickly scanned over the entire wall before she spotted a lockbox with 168 engraved on it.

"Alright! Now, Manager, I need you to use your keys to open this lockbox-"

"I can't," the assistant manager meekly slipped out. Ruby felt the blood drain from her face.

"Wh-what do you mean you can't open it?" Ruby asked.

"Well, uh, this lockbox is special," the manager said. "We've given the owner of this lockbox special privilege, and they have the only copy of the keys to this lockbox-"

"Hey! Everything okay in there?" Yang called out from the lobby.

"Uhh...no, we got a problem! The Assistant Manager said that they don't have any keys to 168 on hand here," Ruby shouted back in her reply.

"They wha-Bring his ass out here!" Yang commanded.

Ruby turned her head towards the Assistant Manager, whose eyes were now practically popping out of his head in fear, and motioned for him to step outside. Ruby knew that Yang wasn't happy, but she knew better than to keep Yang waiting. The two of them limbered outside of the vault and back into the lobby before Yang grabbed the Assistant Manager by the tie while thrusting the barrel of her shotgun under his chin. The Assistant Manager let out a yelp of fear.

"What kind of shit-poor bank doesn't have keys to their own security deposit boxes? You sure you ain't just trying to pull our leg?" Yang spat out in a low voice at the Assistant Manager, each of her words dripping with venom.

"Please, I-I swear! We don't have any keys here to get it open! It was a special request by the owner of the lockbox," the Assistant Manager was able to sputter out.

"Bullshit-"

"Y, he's telling the truth," Ruby piped in. Yang and the Assistant Manager both turned their gaze towards Ruby at the same time. Even though the visor of her helmet was completely tinted black, Ruby could feel Yang glaring daggers at Ruby through her helmet for interrupting her.

Yang always got this way when she was the slightest bit angry; she always flew off the handle towards everyone around her, regardless of who they were. It was almost like for a split-second, Yang forgot that Ruby was her own sister. It always lasted for just a split-second, but it was enough to make Ruby's guts twist up in dread.

Ruby could sense that Yang's split-second of anger was now subsiding, and her head was now collected.

"I believe him. He wouldn't lie," Ruby said, this time with a firmer voice.

Yang, now processing everything Ruby just said, turned her head back to the Assistant Manager to study him, then back at Ruby. She then let go of his tie and lowered the barrel of her shotgun from under his chin. The manager let out a deep sigh of relief as he clutched his chest and grabbed the nearest wall.

"Well, if Mr. Manager here doesn't have keys, then that leaves us with only one more plan, right?" Yang said to Ruby.

Ruby stared at Yang quizzically for a few seconds, wondering what in the world Yang was talking about, before Ruby remembered what was in the back of the van.

"Plan B" was still in the back of the van.

Less than a split second later, Ruby was dashing through the main entrance.

"Hey-Red! Slow down!" Yang called out at Ruby.

"Yeah, yeah-get the door for me when I come back in!" Ruby called back as she threw the bank's doors open and walked back outside the bank.

With some of the adrenaline gone and after gaining control of her senses, Ruby felt the blast of hot Vacuo air as she opened the door and stormed outside towards the back of the van. Scanning her surroundings quickly, she found that nothing had changed since she first left the van: the same cars were in the parking lot, and not a single soul was in sight. Ruby took this moment to tuck her Beretta into her back waistband.

Ruby threw open the back doors of the van and then pulled the cloth off of Plan B in the back of the van. There, Ruby had to indulge herself and take a moment to admire Plan B in all it's beauty: an industrial-grade, 900 RPM diamond-coring drill, customized with a magnetized stabilizing plate and a hand valve to extend the diamond-tipped drill-bit back and forth. All custom modifications were made by yours truly, of course, Ruby Rose.

Ruby quickly snapped back to reality and grabbed the drill with both her hands, grunting as she hoisted the drill out of the back of the van. The drill was only roughly bigger than a microwave, but it weighed a ton. Ruby was putting every single ounce of upper body strength to use to carry "Plan B" into the bank.

Once Ruby reached the doors of the bank again, the doors swung open with Yang posted at the door.

"Get the drill going on the box, and I'll keep an eye on all these assholes," Yang said under her breath to Ruby.

Ruby nodded as she walked briskly past the confused and bewildered eyes of the hostages in the bank and towards the vault. First setting the drill down in the vault, Ruby then began unwinding the drill's power cord and plugged it into an outlet just outside of the vault. Ruby then dashed back towards the drill in the vault and grasped it firmly in both hands. Taking a deep breath, Ruby then groaned as she struggled to lift the drill up. Finally getting the bit level with the keyhole on the lockbox, Ruby gently inched the magnetic plate on the drill closer to the metal surface of the lock boxes above 168 until she felt the drill lurch forward and stick to the lockboxes.

The magnetic plate would be enough to hold the drill steady on its own, but Ruby knew she had to be extra careful and take it slow cracking this box open, since she had no idea what is inside and couldn't risk damaging it. Roman said that not even the guy who set up this job knew what was in the box, although Ruby had to take this with a grain of salt since this was Roman telling her this.

Ruby made final adjustments to have the drill bit line up perfectly with the keyhole, then flicked the power switch to the "on" position. The drill whirred to life, and Ruby saw the drill bit become a mad flurry. Grasping the hand valve with her right hand and stabilizing the drill with her left, Ruby began to inch the drill bit closer to the keyhole until the metal on the keyhole greeted the drill bit's contact with a loud, metallic shrieking. Ruby winced at the piercing sound and turned the valve just a little bit more. Surprised at how easily the drill bit was eating into the metal, Ruby began to ease the drill bit through, centimeter by centimeter, until she felt the drill bit break through the other side of the keyhole. With that, Ruby knew she was done drilling through.

Ruby then shut the drill off and unlatched the drill off the metal surface and gently set it onto the ground. At this point, Ruby was dying of anticipation of what lurked within the box. Was it diamonds? Money? Bearer bonds? She knew she'd find out soon, as she balled her hand up into a fist and gave the metal door three firm pounds, the third one sending the bolt that previously kept the door locked clanging through the now-hollow keyhole and onto the ground. The door then swung open on its own, but Ruby was slightly disappointed that the interior of the box was too dark to see clearly inside. Still, Ruby could make out the outline of an object inside, so she reached into the box with her right hand and pulled out…

A booklet. Wrapped in cracked leather and its paper clearly yellowing with age, but in all, just a booklet.

"Really?" Ruby muttered under her breath. Ruby reached her hand back into the box to make sure she wasn't missing anything, but she could feel that the box was now empty.

She couldn't believe it. All this trouble, just for a checkbook? To say Ruby was disappointed would be an understatement. Still, Ruby remembered that she and Yang were being paid $60,000 for whatever was in the lockbox, even if it was just a dusty, old piece of junk.

"How we doing in there, Red?" Yang called out from outside the bank vault.

"All good! Lemme bag the rest of the cash!" Ruby yelled in response.

Ruby turned towards the pile of cash that was on the metal table in the middle of the vault. "Well, at least we won't be going home empty handed," Ruby thought to herself. Ruby threw the duffle bag that was around her shoulder the whole time and pulled out three more empty duffel bags.

In a weird way, bagging up the cash was Ruby's favorite part of the job, since she knew she was the best at it. Ruby could go at light speeds when it came to loading up the bags with cash, and it pissed Yang off to no end that Ruby was blowing her out of the water when it came to that part of the job.

Ruby had just finished bagging up all the cash and making the trips back and forth to the van loading up the money. In all, packing the cash and moving it took no more than 10 minutes, plust the 2-3 minutes Ruby spend struggling to get "Plan B" back into the van. It would have taken a lot longer if Ruby had to search the stacks for dye packs, but Ruby had a plan for those: a transponder in the glove box to cancel out the proximity sensors in the packs and trick into thinking they were still in the bank. Now, with all the cash loaded up, Ruby could safely say that they had cleaned out this joint to the best of their ability.

"Y, I think that's all of it," Ruby said.

"Alright, Little Red, in that case I'd say it's high time we hit the road," Yang replied. "Go start the van up, I'll be out in a minute," Yang continued in a hushed voice.

Ruby nodded. She knew that Yang was going to take this extra moment to crack one more corny joke to these people or make some grandiose speech. Still, when Yang was on her "comedy routine," there was no stopping her.

Ruby walked back out into the oppresive Vacuo air and briskly walked over to the van's driver side door and swung it open. Opening the glove compartment, Ruby pulled out her Beretta and threw it inside and then slammed it shut. Reaching for the ignition, Ruby felt the keys in her fingertips and gave the keys a twist, causing the engine to roar to life. As if on cue, Yang was now backing out slowly with her shotgun still aimed at the hostages, until she reached the van's doors. Yang ripped the door open, and then quickly sat down in the passenger side seat and slammed her door shut.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Yang shouted the minute she was in the van. Ruby instinctively punched it and the van lurched forward, shooting out of the bank's parking lot.

"Yo, the transponder?" Yang asked.

"In the glove," Ruby replied curtly. Yang threw open the glove compartment and found the grey little box with an antennae attached to it, with a piece of scotch tape labeled "transponder" on it clearly indicating the gadget's function. Yang then flipped the transponder on and saw as it whirred to life with a green light in the middle.

"Let's hope this works," Yang said.

Ruby slammed the pedal onto the floor of the van and began speeding down the side road that the bank was on. Ruby knew that once the van had made it 20 meters of the bank, the dye packs would either trigger if the transponder didn't work, or would remain dormant if the transponder did its job.

As if she was sensing that they were reaching the 20 meter mark, Yang turned around to look at the pile of bags filled with cash in the back of the van. Ruby could feel her own heart rate rise as she was expecting an explosion of colorful ink to shower them and the money, completely ruining any success they've been having so far…

Nothing. Ruby must've driven at least 40 meters down the road at this point, and the money bags in the van remain completely still.

Yang then turned to sit forward in her seat, and then removed her helmet and threw it in the back with the money. Drenched in sweat, Yang shook out her hair and breathed a sigh of relief. Ruby took this time to let down her hood and pull the surgical mask off from her face. Turning towards Yang, she saw that Yang had her hand balled into a fist and outstretched towards Ruby.

"Bump it, yo," Yang said. A wide grin spread across Ruby's face as she then returned Yang's fistbump. Immediately after, Ruby could no longer help it, and the two erupted into childish laughter.

"WE DID IIIIIT!" Yang shouted at the top of her lungs as the van shot straight down the dusty, barren Vacuo backroad, leaving behind only a cloud of dust.


	2. Snowfall

_Thursday, January 16th, 9:15 PM_

_North Point Residential District, Vale City_

* * *

Looking outside the driver's side window, Blake had a clear view of the soft snow drifting down from the night sky and onto the street below, which already had a nice, white layer of snow blanketing it already. It was the type of gentle snowfall that always came at the onset of winter, before the winds became rough and would turn the gently falling tufts of snow into icy ballistic shards.

Blake leaned her head against the driver side window of the car as she stared out absentmindedly at the wintry scene outside. The car she was in, a 2016 model Porsche Cayenne with a glossy black finish, was the only car on the street. Only once did she see another car on the street, slowly crawling through the freshly fallen snow and leaving behind ghastly tire marks on the otherwise unperturbed snow behind it.

Blake could feel shivers as she sat in the dormant vehicle as the plunging temperatures outside was finally starting to make its way into the car and into her bones. That being said, she had remained parked on this street waiting for Fennec to finish up his sermon and come out to the street for at least an hour now. It made sense that the cold would eventually make its way into the car.

Blake took one more glance at the street around her. It was still dead quiet, with the only motion in sight being the falling snow. A row of streetlights on the street stood as the only beacons of light on the street, as all the apartment buildings had long gone dark earlier in the evening, their occupants undoubtedly turning in for the night.

The apartment buildings on this street, and the whole surrounding "North Point" neighborhood as well, were all definitely the best and most expensive Vale had to offer. All the buildings were made from a combination of red brick and concrete in a way that made the apartment look rustic but not dilapidated, and the exterior walls were lined with artificially grown vines to further the faux-aged appearance. A majority of the apartments also sported large patios with covers, and had chic-looking window sills. The whole neighborhood looked like it was trying desperately to give off the "old neighborhood" atmosphere, but the gaudy and modern additions to the apartment broke that appearance after the first glance.

One building that broke this mold was the church that loomed above all the other apartment buildings on the far corner of the street. The church was definitely gothic in architecture, with dirty, smudged cobblestone making up its towering foundation. From its appearance, Blake could tell that this was the only building in the neighborhood that was actually over 50 years old.

Blake felt another shiver coming as she began to hug herself in a desperate attempt to hold in some amount of heat. The black turtleneck she was wearing would ideally have done that for her, but clearly, the top was made more for fashion than practicality. In fact, the same could be said for the rest of her outfit, as the sleek olive-green chino pants she had on was scratchy and paper thin, so even the smallest gust of wind felt like a blast of cold air, and the slip on shoes she was wearing cramped her toes together and wore out her soles. In fact, the only thing on her outfit that wasn't actively making her uncomfortable was the soft, silky black ribbon she had tied in a neat little bow on her head to cover her cat ears.

Still, Blake acknowledged that her high-end get up was necessary to deflect suspicion. Blake knew that any Faunus openly walking around in the North Point would attract attention from humans at best, and was essentially target practice for the police at worst, so the only way to navigate through the neighborhood was to blend in with the locals and seem human. Since the North Point was essentially the most affluent neighborhood in Vale, this meant looking like you had just come off the runway at all times, or you might be outed as a "dirty, poor Faunus."

"Well, it got me this far," Blake admitted in her head as she reached towards her back to scratch one of the thousands of turtleneck-induced itches currently plaguing her. Blake knew that helping to light the fires of a Faunus revolution wasn't going to be comfortable, but she wished could at least wear something less...itchy.

Blake sighed, and looked at the time again on her watch on her wrist.

"9:18," Blake muttered to herself. 18 minutes later than the usual time that the hulking, oaken doors of the weathered church down the street would burst open, and a crowd would leave, chittering away about the "powerful" sermon they just received from the minister. And, once everyone had filed outside, Minister Fennec Albain would step outside to see his congregation off into the night. But so far, no crowd and no Fennec had stepped outside the church.

The First United Church was the only church that let Fennec preach in the North Point, and almost always relegated Fennec to night mass, where attendance would almost certainly be lower. Still, Fennec always took those night masses, since it would give him an opportunity to start spreading the word of the White Fang in the North Point, and also because the rich churchgoers always gave larger tithe payments than other districts.

Blake once again turned her focus to the snowfall now blanketing every surface of the street. Growing up in the Mountain Glenn slums, this type of snowfall was viewed by others as an omen or with dread, since it meant that a hard winter was beginning. It was hard winters in Mountain Glenn that almost always took the lives of the elderly and occasionally a small, feeble child, especially for families that didn't have access to heating. But here, in the middle of the developed world, in a neighborhood of excess, comfort and status, and without the fear of freezing, all Blake could feel was some odd sense of serenity as she watched showers of white begin to fill up the street.

The creaking of old wood and metal quickly drew Blake's focus from the snow as her eyes focused back onto the church entrance. The gigantic wooden doors of the church had finally opened and given way to the late-mass churchgoers shuffling out of the church and into the bitter cold. Most of the worshippers were elderly and draped in fur coats, sleek trench coats and other expensive outerwear. All of them were lightly chatting as they walked out into the quiet winter night.

It was a good 4-5 minutes before the flow of people out of the church began to taper off and eventually cease. Blake watched the flow of people like a hawk for any sign of Fennec, but so far, there was no sign of him anywhere. Asides from Blake, he would practically be the only Faunus in North Point, so there would be no chance for Blake to miss him.

As if on cue, Blake saw Fennec amble out of the church by himself, the rest of the congregation already long gone. Fennec was dressed in his long, silky black minister robes made for faunus priests back in Menagerie, which was custom-fitted for Fennec so that a red hood could be pulled over his head to hide his Faunus ears, which he was doing so currently.

Fennec looked left and right down the street, then, seeing that he was alone, slipped out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket of his robes and picked out a lone cigarette that he just as soon stuck between his mouth. In a smooth, almost robotic fashion, he put the carton back in his robe with his right hand and took out a matchbox with his left. Blake watched with keen eyes as Fennec struck the match, a small flame seemingly erupting at his fingertips, before he cocked his head down and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette.

There had to have been at least a dozen rules in the clergy prohibiting smoking, but Blake knew that wasn't going to stop Fennec from smoking, since she had always seen him with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth every time he was standing on the corner in Mountain Glenn. This was long before Fennec had become a priest, when he used to wear flashy sports coats with colorful pants that were never coordinated with his coats or shirt, but it didn't matter, since he was trying to make a statement that he was on the White Fang payroll, and he was not to be messed with.

Fennec removed his cigarette from his mouth with a pinching grip before letting a plume of smoke blow out of his mouth. After looking left and right again, Fennec began to walk down the street, away from Blake's direction.

Blake took a deep breath and opened the car door. The cabin of the car briefly lit up with a dim glow from the overhead lights, but returned to darkness just as soon as Blake had shut the car door with a gentle slam and she stepped out into the snow. Blake could feel her chest tighten as her feet started moving and she headed towards Fennec.

As Blake hurriedly walked towards Fennec, she could feel how cumbersome and clumsy she must've looked in comparison to Fennec, who was now gracefully walking down the street in a slow stride. His swift motion, combined with his flowy, silky black robes, gave him the appearance of a black ghost traversing through the fresh winter snow.

Blake had finally made it into earshot before Fennec had heard Blake's footsteps and turned around as he made eye contact with his pursuer. Fennec had a look of shock on his face as he saw who it was.

"Miss Belladonna," Fennec said in his monotone voice.

"Brother Fennec," Blake returned back as her greeting.

"What brings you to the North Point, Sister? I hope it was not to attend the sermon I was giving this evening, as I have already concluded-"

"Fennec, I-," Blake paused. "It's your brother. He's been shot."

Blake watched as Fennec's jaw began to slowly drop and his eyes widen.

"Corsac's been shot?" Fennec exclaimed.

"Yes. It happened about an hour or so ago," Blake said, in a shaky voice.

"Wha- Is he alright?" Fennec asked.

"He was shot in the leg, his right shin. It might've shattered a bone, but he's alive, yes."

A wave of relief visibly set into Fennec's face, before it hardened into a hard gaze.

"Who did this?" Fennec said in a low voice. "And why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"

"Police have ears everywhere, Brother, Blake said. "Some things are better said off the phone. As for who did this, no one is sure. He was in our restaurant in Riversport when someone shot through the window. Before we could see who it was, they drove off."

Fennec then let out a heavy sigh.

"My brother...where is he right now?" Fennec inquired.

"He's at an underground clinic outside of Vale city limits. He's with a doctor that the White Fang can trust," Blake said.

"I'm going to head to that clinic now, then. Allow me to take the subway back to my apartment, Miss Belladonna, and I will retrieve my car-"

"No need, Fennec. I have your brother's car here. We used it to drive him to the clinic, and I drove it straight here after we dropped him off. I can give you a lift over there," Blake said.

Blake hoped she hadn't come off as too pushy or desperate. However, Fennec seemed like he agreed.

"Very well then," Fennec said. Blake nodded in return and began to trudge back towards the Cayenne parked a few paces behind her.

The Cayenne was one of the many "gifts" Corsac had given himself after he was appointed to the role of "Treasurer of the White Fang." Suddenly being placed in charge of nearly all of the funds the White Fang had stashed away in safehouses or sitting in offshore bank accounts meant that Corsac was able to indulge himself here and there, so long as it wasn't too large of a purchase for anyone to notice. Of course, the car never sat right with Adam, who always rightly suspected that it was a result of Corsac skimming funds off the top.

Blake got into the driver side of the car and started the engine up with a push of a button (the car had state-of-the-art keyless ignition, so no keys were required), while Fennec slipped into the passenger side of the car. After Fennec shut the passenger side door, Blake threw the car into "Drive", checked to see that no cars were coming, and then slowly pulled out onto the street, the car's tires crunching under the snow.

"I know it might not mean much to you right now, but Corsac was in high spirits through it all. He seemed to be managing the pain well," Blake said as the car began to cruise down the snow-covered side street. All she got in response was a small nod of acknowledgement.

"That sounds like the Corsac I know," Fennec said.

Blake nodded back in agreement. Growing up in Mountain Glenn, she had seen Corsac and Fennec tending to their gunshot wounds after someone had jumped them, back when they were just muscle. Given that they initially were the enforcers and debt collectors for the White Fang, they were often the most despised by the White Fang's enemies, whether it was the police or human supremacist gangs. Either way, many had shot the brothers while the two were hanging out on the street, but none had succeeded in killing them. Often times, that would be the last mistake they ever made, as the brothers would give the would-be assassins bullet holes of their own.

Nowadays, though, the two didn't have to fear that as much, since Corsac had been promoted to treasurer and Fennec took on his role as the "spiritual" face of the White Fang. It was an open secret at this point that the White Fang was no longer just a "force of revolution," as it currently had its hands in gun-running, drug manufacturing and selling, racketeering and extortion, but Fennec had the job of trying to put on some semblance of decency for the organization, that they were more than just petty criminals. Since taking on his new role, he's written several theses about the struggle of the Faunus since their mass exodus from a devastated Menagerie, and has been making the rounds around Remnant preaching about "forgiveness" and "acceptance" towards Faunus.

 _It's a far cry from sticking guns in people's faces when they didn't pay up,_ Blake thought to herself.

Within a few minutes, Blake was on the expressway heading eastbound out of Vale. The road was slick with grey, clumpy snow that had been treaded over by the dozens of cars heading out of Vale as the night drew to a close. Blake felt the car lurch forward as she pressed down on the gas pedal to match the speed of the zooming cars on the expressway.

"Miss Belladonna, if I may ask, was my brother sitting in the seat I'm currently in right now, when you drove him to the hospital?" Fennec inquired to break the silence.

"Yes, he was," Blake responded. "He was in the passenger seat while I drove him to the hospital."

"And where is this hospital, exactly?" Fennec asked.

"Well...Somewhere in Forever Fall," Blake responded.

Blake snuck a glance over at Fennec as his brows began to furrow.

As Blake continue to speed down the road, the wide, bustling expressway gave way to a two-lane highway leading towards the Forever Fall forest. They were far outside Vale at this point, and the scenery on the sides of the road had transitioned from twinkling lights from apartment buildings to crooked, jagged branches from a sea of trees that had their leaves stripped by the winter cold.

Blake had heard the tall tales when she was a child about the Forever Fall forest being where creatures of the night lurked. No one has ever seen them, but they only come out at night, and their dark, shadowy figures made them hard to see, with only their glowing red eyes announcing their presence. They could look like fearsome wolves, or large, swooping eagles that came down from the skies to snatch their prey. Lots of people came up with varying descriptions for these creatures, but they always painted a terrible, grim picture.

Now an adult and having been initiated into the White Fang, Blake knew that there's no creatures lurking in the Forever Fall forest. She knew this because this was forest where the White Fang would bury their victims, far from any road or building, under the cover of night. As far as Blake knew, no White Fang member has ever reported being snatched up in the jaws of some creature while they were digging the graves of some poor bastard they just shot in the head.

Blake looked over to Fennec's direction once more. She could see that he looked even more troubled than before they left Vale city limits.

"Something on your mind, Brother?" Blake asked.

"Yes, Miss Belladonna. _Why is it that you're trying to kill me?_ "

It took a good second before the words that Fennec had just spoken was fully registered by Blake. When she did, Blake felt like the floor had opened underneath her and she was now freefalling.

 _How the hell did he figure me out?_ Blake silently asked herself.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean, Fennec-"

"Don't play stupid with me, Miss Belladonna. I know plenty of doctors in Vale that were miles closer to your warehouse that could have treated my brother," Fennec said. "That is, _if_ my brother was actually shot in your warehouse. If he truly was, am I correct in assuming that he would have bled at least a little during the car ride from the warehouse to the clinic?"

Blake said nothing in response, mainly due to being petrified with shock.

"Then why is it, Miss Belladonna, that there is not a single drop of blood where I'm sitting?" Fennec asked. "Was my brother not sitting in the very seat I'm in now, as you said?"

Blake said nothing again. She physically couldn't bring herself to words. Her eyes were wide open with disbelief, locked on the road ahead. She knew she was caught red-handed, and all of this was because of her complacency. If only she had come with a better lie, she might have actually fooled Fennec.

"So, Miss Belladonna, were you underestimating my reasoning, or are you that absent-minded that you couldn't concoct an adequate lie? Perhaps, it was a little bit of both?" Fennec sneered.

Blake turned her head slightly towards Fennec to catch a glimpse of him through the corner of her eye. Fennec was now smirking.

"Don't fret, Sister, I'm not armed. I'm sure I'll make easy prey for you yet," Fennec said in a mocking voice, dripping with venom.

 _Even in the end, he's going to be a smug prick,_ Blake thought to herself. Still, it was relieving to hear that Fennec wasn't armed. _Maybe this is all still salvageable,_ Blake thought. But can she really trust Fennec that he was unarmed?

Blake took a large and audible gulp as she felt her now-dry throat constricting. Blake knew there was no way of denying this to Fennec anymore. And plus, she was willing to take Fennec up on his word, and return his honesty by telling him the truth...

"Alright, Fennec," Blake said with a heavy sigh, "You're right. I am here to kill you."

A large smile began to creep across Fennec's face. "So who was it that ordered my demise?" Fennec asked.

"It was Adam," Blake said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Fennec let out a loud scoff.

"Of course. Brother Adam's solution to everything is a bullet between the eyes. Always quick to have someone killed for his own mistakes," Fennec said.

"Fennec, I'm sorry. But I cannot disobey Adam's orders-"

Fennec quickly turned towards Blake, which made Blake jump a little.

"Of course, you could never betray your beloved Adam, could you Blake?" Fennec spat, his sneering tone now replaced with pure vitriol. "Do you even know why Adam wants me dead?"

Blake opted towards silence once again. Blake didn't know how to answer because, the truth is, she wasn't even sure why Adam wanted Fennec dead. The only instructions she received from Adam was to make it appear like Fennec was killed by his brother, hence why she was driving around with his car.

Fennec let out a long, deep and audible exhale before he opened his mouth to speak again. "Brother Adam wants me dead because of my criticism of him in recent sermons. An insult, where I rightfully call him out as nothing more than a gangster."

Blake's brow furrowed as she tried to understand what Fennec had just said. Fennec had been talking poorly of Adam behind his back? What was the reason for this sudden betrayal of the White Fang, after Fennec had been loyally serving them for over 20 years?

"Adam Taurus has doomed the White Fang to a future of arms smuggling and drug distribution," Fennec said. "Even after my brother and I have profusely warned him against all this, he let his ambition and greed get the better of him as he risked the future for Faunus everywhere that your father worked so hard to create."

Fennec sighed and sunk back in his seat.

"Of course, your Adam wouldn't want you to think that of him, would you?" Fennec moaned.

Blake shook her head. "Even if everything you said is true, Fennec, you know the rules more than anyone. You know that if you speak ill of Adam, he wouldn't take kindly to it."

Fennec scoffed. "So this is what you've become, now, Blake? A scared animal with your tail between your leg because of one man?"

Fennec let out a sickening laugh as Blake could feel her blood begin to boil. She already has had enough of Fennec's arrogance for tonight.

"How far you've fallen, Miss Belladonna," Fennec sneered. "To think that your father thought that you could have the courage to lead us after him. Ghira would be rolling in his grave right now if he could see you-"

Hearing her father's name, Blake could feel her blood boil and something in her snap as she turned to face Fennec.

"You keep my father's name out of your goddamn mouth-"

Not a second after the words left Blake's mouth, she saw Fennec had capitalized on her blinding rage by lurching forward and grabbing the steering wheel with his left arm. Blake's eyes widened and every nerve in her came alive as she realized that the situation had now escalated and she needed to act. Blake quickly grabbed ahold of Fennec's left forearm as he gripped the wheel, but she felt him pull his left arm back towards him, causing the wheel to jerk right.

The reaction was instantaneous - Blake could feel the air whoosh past her briefly as the car began to swerve into a sharp right. A split second later, Blake could feel her head slam against the driver side window, the jolting pain from the impact soon replaced with an onset of nausea and screaming pain in her temple from the trauma. Blake could hear the car skidding as she saw the surroundings outside the car window spinning by, the tires underneath kicking up snow off the road in a mad flurry. Out of the corner of her eye, she also saw Fennec's body being thrown around.

Out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw the car was heading straight for a snowbank. Blake tried to slam her foot on the brake, but in her disoriented state, she just couldn't find the brake pedal.

Not a few seconds later, Blake felt a jolt as the car hit the snowbank, and she no longer heard the screeching of the tires underneath as she suddenly felt as if she was lurched upwards and then suddenly felt weightless. Blake knew that the snowbank had launched the car up in the air, and her and Fennec were now at the mercy of gravity.

Still reeling from the wave of disorientation from slamming her head against the window, coupled with the feeling of literally floating, Blake watched in a stupor as the interior of the car suddenly became almost like a zero-gravity chamber, as spare change and a water bottle from the cupholder and other loose debris began floating up in the car's interior and around her face.

For a split second, Blake thought that this was what a peaceful death should be like.

That split second was shattered as Blake could see the ground approaching upside down as the car hurtled back downwards. The roof of the car hit the ground first, landing with a metallic, screeching thud and followed by the windshield splintering and then shattering. Blake shut her eyes as the turquoise glass shrapnel came shooting towards her and felt their scratchy, icy embrace on her face. At the same time, Blake could feel her body being thrown in every direction, the whiplash amplifying her nausea and disorientation tenfold. The pair of limbs that whipped back and forth from the right of her field of vision indicated to her that Fennec was also similarly being thrown back and forth. Blake braced every impact with a wince as she felt the car tumble around and around, each impact with the ground releasing a loud clanging _boom_ that deafened her more and more before, almost in slow motion, she saw the top of the steering wheel approach her face as she was thrown towards it. Blake felt her head connect with the steering wheel, and that was the last thing she felt before everything went black.

Occasionally, a soft ringing sound or far-away sounding clang would rouse Blake out of the darkness, but she would just as soon slip back into unconsciousness. It wasn't until Blake felt the piercing, stabbing pain in her temples that the black cloud covering her vision was lifted and she began to slowly open her eyes. Now fully conscious, Blake felt her whole body jolt awake as she breathed in sharply, like she was drowning and desperately coming up for air.

She was seeing double, and her vision swirled around as Blake laboriously tried to turn her head to discern her surroundings. A throbbing pain was beginning to set into Blake's head and a loud ringing deafened her ears as she realized that her arms were outstretched over her head. Curiously enough, gravity didn't seem to be pulling her arms down towards her side like she expected, but rather felt like it was stretching her arms further over her head. In her dazed condition, Blake was confused by this for a second, before she realized: she was upside down.

At that moment, Blake's vision began to clear up and the floating, swirling images in her vision began to align themselves, revealing the interior of the car, except mangled and bent in horrid, different angles. Little bits of glass lay on the roof of the car, and snowdrift had begun to pile up on the roof of the car's interior. The ringing in Blake's ear also began to clear up, as she heard a mechanical whirring through the windshield, coupled with the whistling howl of the winter winds picking up outside. Blake realized that the mechanical whirring must be coming from the engine sputtering out the last of its life, meaning that the crash couldn't have been too long ago.

 _Well, I suppose I'm not dead_ , Blake thought to herself as she craned her neck to look directly below her, towards the roof. A layer of snow peppered with tiny glass shards still lay on the roof of the car, however, red blood was now beginning to seep into her field of vision.

It took a good few seconds for Blake to register that it was indeed blood underneath her right now before the fright began to set into her. _Is this my blood?_ Blake feared as she mustered all her strength to bring her arms to her torso and make sure she was still in one piece. It hurt to press down on her ribs, and she audibly winced when she pressed her fingertips there through her turtleneck, but it was clear that she was intact. Blake was puzzled still by the blood until she recalled the events directly before the crash and then craned her head to her right.

Blake almost gasped in terror at what she saw next: Fennec lay hanging next to her in the passenger seat, his arms outstretched over his head just like Blake, however, he wasn't moving, and his eyes were wide open. A thick stream of dark-red blood was running from his mouth and nose. The blood stream was moving upwards on his face, and was dripping off the top of his head and onto the roof below. Underneath his head, a large pool of blood was increasing in size, which Blake deduced was the blood that she saw creeping underneath her.

In a panic, Blake raised her right hand to the right side of her hip, fumbling around for the car's seatbelt release before she felt the button on her fingertips and pressed it. The minute she did, she felt herself suddenly hurtling towards the roof of the car as she let out a loud _oof_ as her body hit the ground. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through her body, and it was that moment that she became aware of how every bone in her body ached like hell.

Now suddenly right side up, Blake groaned as she reached out her arms towards the driver side window and grabbed ahold of something to pull herself out of the car through the window. Blake could feel the cold snow brushing up against her aching body, which gave a small sensation of relief before she stepped out into the cold.

A blast of winter air instantly greeted Blake as she crawled away from the car, stinging all the cuts on her face, and then strained every muscle she had in her legs to get herself back on two feet. Using her hands to steady herself as she stood up, Blake readjusted herself to gravity and standing straight, even as her head continued to pulse and swirl with pain and disorientation. All the time hanging upside down in the car had clearly put Blake's balance off center, and she had to muster all her strength to not topple over. Once she finally got her bearings, she then instantly took 3 or 4 steps backing away from the car.

Blake took in the whole state of the car. One of the rear wheels was completely missing, and the back side was practically entirely smashed in. None of the windows were intact. The mechanical whirring was beginning to subside, and only the sound of the creaking metal and howling wind was left. Through where the windows should be, Blake could see Fennec still hanging there, lifeless.

Blake could feel her legs beginning to buckle, so she decided to slowly lower herself into the snow-covered ground. Blake took the rest of her surroundings at this time, and realized the car had flipped over into a ditch, about 3-4 meters or so from the road. Past the ditch was a sea of dead trees that clearly made up the bulk of the Forever Fall forest.

As Blake continued to gaze upon the heap of metal wreckage before her, she realized that the car was the only way that she could have gotten out of Forever Fall, but now that it was wrecked, she needed another way out. That's when Blake remembered the phone in her pants pocket…

Blake quickly slipped her hand into her right pant pocket and felt the phone she had tucked away in there before: a "burner" phone that was just a pre-paid flip phone. Untraceable and for use in emergencies only, Blake marvelled at the fact that the phone had escaped the crash largely unscathed. Blake quickly flipped open the phone and the screen flickered to life, where she proceeded to punch in a series of numbers on the phone's keypad before pressing the "dial" button. With the dial-tone now ringing, Blake held the phone to her right ear, closed her eyes and prayed for a response. Not long after, the dial-tone had cut out, indicating someone had picked up.

"Yo?" asked the male voice on the other end of the line.

"Sun, it's Blake," Blake croaked out. "I-I need help."

"Oh, shit," Sun said in a tone much different from the lighthearted, teasing one he usually had. "Uh, okay. Where at?"

"It's somewhere on I-65 heading eastbound out of Vale and through Forever Fall," Blake said. "I'm somewhere in the middle of the forest. Just follow the highway out of North Point and you'll come across me eventually."

"Okay," Sun said, the sound of rustling in the background indicating that he was now getting up and scrambling to head towards Blake's location now. "Are you alright? Are you hurt or anything?"

"No, I'm fine," Blake said. "Just, I need you to hurry, alright?"

"Got it, I'm on my way now. Sit tight, alright?" Sun said.

"I will," Blake said, before the line went dead.

Blake slapped the phone shut and then slipped it back in her pocket. As much of a goof-off Sun could be at times, she could at least always count on him to help her when it hit the fan. Still, she hoped that he could get to her before the winter winds froze her to death, or if someone came along and happened to see the accident scene…

Blake laid down on the ground, her arms outstretched like a snow angel. Some of the throbbing pain in her head had begun to subside, but her body still ached all over.

 _I could still be much worse off,_ Blake thought to herself as she remembered Fennec, still in the vehicle. After thinking of him, a sudden wave of guilt began to creep into Blake as she realized that she had done what she set out to to do: she had killed Fennec.

She could convince herself that it was Fennec who killed himself by crashing the car himself (why he even thought that was a good idea in the first place, Blake didn't know), or that Fennec was a bad man and he won't be missed in death, or she was just following orders; Adam's orders in particular. But in the end, Blake knew that because of her, Fennec was still no longer alive. And if everything Fennec said was true, he died over a stupid, banal reason: a bruised ego.

Blake began to close her eyes and let her fatigue take over her for a bit as the winds whipped her face and she patiently awaited a rescue that, quite frankly, she didn't know if she wanted.


	3. The Future

_Friday, January 17th,2:53 PM_

_Schnee Dust Company - Corporate Headquarters, Atlas_

* * *

Weiss cupped her hands into a small bowl underneath the running stream from the faucet, and allowed the cold water to pool in her hands, the cold, numbing sensation slowly creeping across her palm and fingers. Once the water had reached the tops of her hands, she lowered her head closer to her hands, allowing the ice cold water to splash across her face.

Weiss closed her eyes upon contact with the water. The splash against her face felt like an explosion of little icy needles. Weiss could feel the nerves in her skin begin to prick up as the icy sensation from the water began to settle in. It was like a mini sensory overload - just what Weiss needed after the past 24 hours had drained her physically and mentally.

Weiss made sure that most of the water had been contained by the sink's basin, so as not to make a mess on the bathroom's black marble countertop. The bathroom was immaculately clean when she first came in, so it would only feel disrespectful if she left sopping puddles of water around the bathroom.

After feeling most of the excess water dripping off of her face and down into the sink below, Weiss opened her eyes and stood up straight, no longer haunched over the sink to capture the water. Weiss caught a reflection of herself in the mirror.

Weiss was shocked with how disheveled she looked. A dark circle was beginning to form around her eyes, and the bags underneath them became more puffy. On top of that, her face looked even more drained of color and was almost ghostly white. She was almost unrecognizable to even herself, if it weren't for the piercing, cold blue eyes staring back at her like always.

Weiss sighed and then pressed down on the handle of the faucet to shut off the water before returning her gaze to the mirror, this time with the surroundings in the bathroom her focus. If the fancy black marble that housed the sink was anything to go by, the bathroom was one of the most lavish bathrooms in all of the Schnee Dust Company offices. Bright LED lights illuminated from the mirrors, and the walls were lined with fine mahogany wood. Even the faucets were designed with a flair for elaborateness, as they were the fancy "canal" ones that let water flow through an open U-shaped channel when the tap was opened.

The bathroom wasn't out of place on the floor it was on, though. This was the Executive Relations floor, where executives from the SDC would rub elbows with other shot callers at different businesses, or even occasionally a politician or other elected representative. The whole floor was designed to impress, and obviously the bathroom wasn't an exception.

A chill was beginning to run through Weiss's body, causing her to shudder ever so slightly. Part of it was the shock from the cold water finally beginning to seep into her body, but mostly it was because Weiss realized that her next meeting was rapidly approaching and it was time to head back outside. Weiss drew in a deep breath, and let out a loud, audible exhale.

 _Time to face the vultures,_ Weiss thought to herself.

Weiss took one last look at herself in the mirror, this time fixating more on her attire. Her double-breasted, light grey business jacket was still as immaculate as when she put it on this morning, and the black blouse she wore underneath it was spotless. Coupled with matching dress slacks, she looked drab and colorless, which was in contrast to the stark white suits she usually preferred. But since her father was going to be in this meeting, she knew she should sport a more conservative look. After double-checking that she looked presentable, she grabbed her leather padfolio that lay on the countertop and began walking to the door.

The minute she opened the door, Weiss felt drained again as she saw Whitley standing in front of her, leaning against the wall and his head tilted downward with a sly little grin across his face.

"Whitley, what are you doing here?" Weiss questioned, her voice lending a bit of a demanding tone.

"Why, I'm just here to escort my older sister to the right conference room," Whitley said, raising his head up. "I know you don't make it up to this floor often, so I figured it best to lend my familiarity up here to guide you to the right place."

Weiss instantly picked up on Whitley's bull. She knew he couldn't care less if she was stumbling around lost on this floor, and he just wanted to take a subtle jab at her, since she was never trusted enough to meet clients on this floor before in her old role as the Chief of SDC Cargo Transport on the Sanus continent.

Now, ever since her promotion to Chief Logistics Officer, Weiss was liable for transport throughout the entirety of Remnant. This meant even more responsibilities, which included greasing the palms of clients, business partners and government officials on all three continents that the SDC operated on.

Weiss's promotion occurred as a result of Whitley's own promotion, as he used to be the Chief Logistics Officer before he was recently promoted to Chief Operations Officer. Now, his role entailed seeing that the day-to-day ops of the vast cargo shipping network that the Schnee Dust Company owns runs smoothly. This was no easy task for a company that handles 70% of all commercial cargo across Remnant.

Weiss and Whitley continued down the well-lit, mahogany-walled hallways, their shoes clinking against the meticulously polished marble floor. Well-dressed executives walked past them, sometimes stealing a quick glance at the two siblings. Frosted glass windows allowed blurred glimpses into the conference rooms dispersed throughout the floor, and widescreen TV's mounted onto walls boasted stock prices and projected revenues for the SDC.

Weiss watched as Whitley strided in front of her and maintained a good 3-4 paces between them. It was almost transfixing watching Whitley walk, the way he elegantly moved without bobbing up or down or plodding his feet down like an oaf. Weiss's mother had always chastised her and Winter when they were younger for not having Whitley's grace and form, while her father always grumbled about how he walked like a woman.

The two of them began approaching the entrance to a conference room. Through the fuzziness of the frosted-glass windows, she could make out the silhouette of two figures. Weiss knew that her father was not one of them, since he was currently wrapping up a quarterly earning's report to shareholders that was going to make him a few minutes late to this meeting. Whitley quickly glanced at his wristwatch after stopping by the door.

"2:55. We're early," Whitley announced.

Not a second later, Whitley opened the door to the conference room and walked inside anyways. Weiss knew Whitley was going in anyways, as Whitley always arrived at meetings 5 minutes early. Weiss took a deep breath and followed suit.

The room kept with the aesthetic of the hallway outside in that it was lined with mahogany wood walls, but the two figures sitting on the opposite end of the room made it feel far removed from the outside. On the right, a woman in a velvet red business suit with long, black, silky hair and sharp facial features sat looking at Weiss and Whitley with a small smirk on her face, her amber eyes returning Weiss's gaze. Next to her on her left was a young woman in a dark grey sports coat with dark complexion and turquoise green hair. Her face was similarly pretty, but twisted into a sort of scowl towards the Schnees instead, her red eyes shooting daggers to the two.

"Ms. Fall, Ms. Sustrai, very good to see you," Whitley said as he strode over to the two to greet them.

"Likewise," the black-haired woman said in a sultry tone as she rose from her chair to meet Whitley; the turquoise-haired woman quickly standing up after her. Whitley and the black-haired woman both outstretched arms and the two gave each other a firm handshake, then as Whitley shook the turquoise-haired woman's hand.

"Weiss, this is Cinder Fall, President of Hexe Industries," Whitley said as he gestured with his left arm towards the black-haired woman, "and this is Emerald Sustrai, her Executive Assistant."

"Very pleased to meet you," Weiss said, before she herself began walking towards the two to greet them as well, "I'm Weiss Schnee, Chief Logistics Officer for the SDC."

"The pleasure is mine, Ms. Schnee," Cinder purred to Weiss as she reached her hand out. Weiss reciprocated with a firm grip and gave Cinder a quick handshake before turning to Emerald and shaking her hand as well. Weiss and Whitley then pulled out a chair directly opposite of Cinder and Emerald and sat themselves down at the table, while Cinder and Emerald did the same.

Weiss took one last look at the two to size them up. Whitley had said that these two were prospective business partners for the Schnee Dust Company and that he'd like to bring them into the fold, but they didn't look like any businesspeople Weiss had dealt with in the past. This, coupled with the fact that she had never heard of Hexe International before Whitley had invited Weiss to this meeting, gave her an uneasy feeling.

"So, is all of Jacques Schnee's children on the board of his company then?" Cinder quizzically asked.

"No, no," Whitley said in an ever-so-slight chuckle, "our elder sister Winter has decided to take the path of law and order in life. She's now the deputy commissioner of the Controlled Substance Enforcement Agency."

"Hmm, what a shame," Cinder said. "Someone of such talented blood decides to waste it by going to play police."

Weiss felt a bit of a jolt hearing the insult that Cinder had just lobbed. _How dare she say those things to business partners she just met?_ Weiss thought in her head. As she sat dumbfounded on how to respond to such a rude remark, she heard the door open behind her. Weiss turned around to see her father walking in, in his characteristic off-white suit and blue shirt.

"Sorry, got caught up in a Shareholder's meeting," Jacques said curtly as he walked over to Cinder and Emerald to shake their hands, "I'm Jacques Schnee."

"Not a problem, Mr. Schnee," Cinder said, while shaking Jacques's hand, "I was just getting to meet your children here for the past few minutes. I'm Cinder Fall, President of Hexe Industries, and this Emerald Sustrai, my assistant. We've been hearing all about you from your son."

"Well, hopefully they've been good things," Jacques quipped, with a slight chuckle. Everyone in the room returned Jacques small attempt at humor with a small little laugh as well, before Jacques found his seat between Weiss and Whitley, and Cinder and Emerald sat down as well.

"So, Ms. Fall, what was it that you'd like to discuss today?" Jacques said.

"Well, Mr. Schnee, I'd like to know what it would take to have access to your underground smuggling network."

"..."

There was a silence in the room for a few seconds after Cinder had finished speaking. That's how long it took for what Cinder said to sink in in Weiss's head.

" _What the_ _hell_ _did she just ask_?" Weiss thought to herself.

"I'm sorry?" Jacques finally replied, shifting his voice to a low growl.

"You heard me," Cinder said, her tone defiant and a smirk proudly beaming in her face.

By this time, Weiss had felt like she'd been hit with 100 volts. She definitely was not just imagining the words she just heard this woman say. Cinder was asking about the smuggling operations that the SDC runs, in broad daylight, in the middle of an office building.

Weiss was clearly not alone in her shock, as Jacques was now audibly fuming, each exhale through his nostrils sounding like jets firing off as his face began to turn red and twist into an ugly snarl. Even the unflappable Whitley was staring at the two with a confused, deer-in-the-headlights look.

Out of the blue, Jacques shot up from his seat as he stared down the two ladies and then stormed towards the conference room door.

"Come with me. _Now,_ " Jacques growled as he threw open the door. Cinder's smirk grew tenfold as she gave Emerald a smug look and a short nod to signal that they would indeed be following Jacques's instructions. The two stood up, grabbed their overcoats draped on the chairs behind them and walked towards the door.

Whitley gave Weiss a look of slight worry before standing up and following behind the two ladies currently leaving the conference room. Weiss had never seen Whitley this shocked before, but then again, Weiss had never met anyone brash or stupid enough to be talking about _that_ side of the business in the middle of the SDC headquarters. Weiss stood up from her chair and began to follow.

After everyone was out of the conference room, Jacques set off through the hallways as he stormed towards wherever he was going at frightening speeds. Weiss had only ever seen her father move this fast when he was about to explode into one of his monumental anger outbursts. Clearly, the other execs on the floor had seen this side of Jacques before too, as they all scurried out of Jacques path when they saw him barreling through the hallway at breakneck speeds. Cinder and Emerald were walking briskly behind Jacques, while Whitley and Weiss found themselves struggling to keep up the pace.

" _Where in the hell is father taking us?"_ Weiss thought to herself, struggling to keep up with the group in her platform shoes.

Her question was answered when Jacques stopped by a doorway that lead to the outdoor courtyard in the middle of the floor. Even though this was the 36th floor of the building, Jacques made it clear that he wanted an outdoor courtyard carved out from the roof to conduct business in when the designs for the headquarters were first being drafted. In the summer, there were usually lush shrubs and flowers surrounding a miniature fountain in the atrium. However, it was January, and the snow from the Atlesian winter blanketed the branches of dead shrubs and trees where green leaves used to grow.

Jacques gave a stone-cold glare towards Cinder and Emerald before opening the door out to the courtyard, letting in a blast of frigid air. Cinder gave one last amused look towards Emerald before they complied and trodded through the doorway and out into the snow, simultaneously slipping on their overcoats. Whitley shot Weiss another look of concern before turning towards the doorway and walking out himself.

It fully dawned on Weiss that she would have to head outside as well, but with no overcoat to keep her warm like Cinder and Emerald had. Her suit jacket would be the only shield she had from the artic conditions outside.

" _Perfect,_ " Weiss thought to herself as she stepped through the doorway. At least the cold outside wasn't anything new, as Weiss had grown up braving the frigid Atlesian winters. Jacques followed behind her and shut the door, fully sealing the group into bitter cold.

"Care to explain why we're changing our meeting room from a heated conference room to subzero temperatures?" Cinder asked in an insolent tone.

"Shut your goddamn mouth," Jacques quickly snapped back.

Cinder was clearly amused by Jacques anger, as the smile on her face grew more and more at this recent outburst.

"I don't know if you were born yesterday or something, but there's a little something called a wiretap that can record everything we say and do," Jacques said. "I have had the Atlesian police crawling up my ass for the last year, and I guarantee they have wiretaps in place in my building. All they need is one idiot like you talking about smuggling on record and suddenly they got a reason to drag me to court."

From this, Weiss knew why her father had dragged them all outside: there's no way that a wiretap could survive the extreme temperatures out here, meaning that this was the only safe spot in the building where the illegal operations of the SDC could be openly discussed.

"Apologies, Mr. Schnee," the woman said, the smirk on her face indicating that she really wasn't. "It's just that I know hard it is to schedule a meeting with the one and only Jacques Schnee about his more...clandestine operations."

"It's hard for a damn reason," Jacques spat. "Now, explain to me why you just came into my office talking about smuggling, or why I should even care who the hell you are."

"Well, Mr. Schnee, let me ask you: Did you know about Hexe International before you met us today?" Cinder asked.

"No," Jacques fired back, clearly annoyed with Cinder's coyness.

"Well, that's exactly how we like it, and how we plan it. Hexe International is one of the largest chemical manufacturers in Remnant right now," Cinder said. "Petrochemicals, consumer chemicals, raw materials for pharmaceuticals, and so on. Most of the things in your life started as a Hexe chemical and you wouldn't even know it."

"If your chemicals are so important, then why would your company prefer anonymity?" Jacques asked.

"Because a low profile decreases the chances of the Controlled Substance Enforcement Agency launching an investigation into our inventory of raw and refined chemicals," Cinder replied. "And if they did launch an investigation, they'd find that every few weeks or so, a truckload of chemicals would go missing."

"Let me guess: someone is actually paying Hexe for those chemicals so they can make drugs out of them," Weiss guessed.

"Almost correct," Cinder said. "We don't actually sell those chemicals to anyone, because we manufacture drugs ourselves. Along with the dozens of legitimate chemical plants that we have, there are hundreds of drug labs that we operate all throughout Remnant. Those missing chemicals go straight to those drug labs, and no one is the wiser."

At this point, Cinder began to slowly pace around the four figures currently standing out in the freezing cold. She walked at a lethargic pace, almost like a tiger circling its prey.

"Hexe's operations don't stop there either. We control a network of dealers in all continents across Remnant, from the street dealers in Mistral to the high stakes players in Vale," Cinder said.

Cinder then began motioning with her right arm towards Emerald, who had previously stood behind Cinder as she spoke.

"Ms. Sustrai here has the official title of executive assistant at Hexe, but what her job title doesn't tell you is that she's actually the lead manager of all our drug sales operations in Remnant. All drug dealers essentially answer to her."

Emerald nodded with approval after Cinder finished, and stepped forward to speak. "Essentially, Hexe is one of the largest vertically-integrated drug manufacturing operations in Remnant," Emerald said. "From its start as raw material to the final sale with the customer, Hexe pretty much oversees the whole thing."

"Well, except for one little thing," Cinder interrupted, "we don't have a way to move our product intercontinentally. Mainly because of one certain conglomerate that essentially has a death grip on the whole shipping industry in Remnant."

Out of the blue, Whitley cleared his throat, seemingly deliberately to get the rest of the group's attention. All eyes were on him as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I feel this is an appropriate time to mention that I may have informed Cinder of the SDC's own illicit dealings," Whitley said.

Jacques then snapped his head towards Whitley. Weiss could see the fury begin to build in Jacques eyes, the kind that she saw right before he was about to berate someone.

"What did you tell them, Whitley?" Jacques said, his voice stern and scolding. Weiss saw a small flash of terror creep up onto Whitley's face.

"He only told me the bare essentials, Mr. Schnee," Cinder said.

"And that would be?" Jacques replied, interrogatively.

"Well, that if you knew the right person in the SDC, they could smuggle whatever...illicit goods you wanted moved, completely off the books and away from the view of the law," Cinder said.

There was a brief moment of silence, as it was confirmed to Weiss that Cinder truly knew the SDC's true business. It wasn't often the term Weiss heard the term "smuggling" from someone outside the SDC, and when it was, it was from some do-gooder cop or politician vowing to expose the SDC, not from some mysterious drug kingpin.

Jacques sighed. "You're not wrong," Jacques said, beginning a slow walk towards Cinder. "We can and do smuggle goods. Stolen cars, money, endangered animals, guns, black market military gear and vehicles. Hell, we'll even move people. But one thing we will not move, is drugs."

Jacques was now practically in Cinder's face, staring her down with a mad intensity beaming from his eyes. Cinder still had smug expression on, clearly unaffected by Jacques.

"And why is that, Mr. Schnee?" Cinder asked.

"Because drugs are bad _fuckin'_ news," Jacques responded. "Every single top cop in Remnant is looking to bust anyone involved in the drug trade, whether it's a dealer, manufacturer or a smuggler. Everything that I smuggle, I can easily get past the Port Authority, no questions asked. But if someone were to find even a speck of coke on my ships, they'd throw a 30-year sentence at me."

"Well, Mr. Schnee, what if I told you that I can make sure the police would never catch you red-handed with smuggling drugs?" Cinder replied.

"What in the world do you mean?" Jacques replied, his tone now carrying a hint of intrigue.

"I take it that fear of prosecution from the Controlled Substance Enforcement Agency, or CSEA, is what's weighing on your mind," Cinder said. "I could convince the commissioner to look the other way when it comes to searching SDC ships and trucks."

"Hold on," Jacques interjected, his tone marked with surprise. "You mean to tell me that you know Jimmy Ironwood?"

"Let's just say that Hexe Industries and Commissioner Ironwood have an...off-the-books relationship," Cinder said. "We can tell the commissioner that any missing chemicals is a result of truck hijackings carried out by the Faunus, particularly the White Fang. Gives Ironwood an excuse to send his little deathsquads out to round up Faunus, and it lets us move product without fear of any CSEA prosecution."

With this revelation, Weiss could see the gears turning in Jacques' head. If the CSEA was truly out of their way, the SDC could finally move drugs, something that they could only dream of doing before. Plus, the Faunus has always been a thorn in the side of the SDC, so it would be killing two birds with one stone. Still, Weiss couldn't help but feel that they were all flying a little too close to the sun on this one...

"Whitley," Jacques said as Whitley instantly turned his attention back to Jacques. "What do you think of all this? Can you vouch for these people?"

"Absolutely," Whitley replied.

"And Weiss," Jacques said, turning towards her. "Do we have the capabilities to begin moving Hexe's product in our fleet?"

Weiss froze. Every thought in her mind was currently screaming that this was a bad idea. Everything about the deal she's heard so far was tantalizing, to say the least, but at the end of the day, Weiss didn't know these people who were now suddenly asking them to move high risk contraband.

"Father, I don't think we should be doing this," Weiss replied. "We are not in a position to transport-"

"Girl, I didn't ask whether we should or shouldn't," Jacques growled. "I specifically asked if we currently have the assets available to begin moving product."

Weiss gulped. It always stung when her father lashed out at her, but this time it was worse, since Weiss had no way of telling her father that they were essentially betting the future of the company on the line. Still, she knew that she couldn't defy her father, so…

"Yes, we can move their product," Weiss answered. "We have enough resources to do so."

A satisfied grin began to creep across Cinder's face upon hearing this.

"Air travel is going to be out of the question, since the cargo on planes are thoroughly checked for contraband, and I doubt even Ironwood's sway will be able to prevent the inspections," Weiss said. "But we have freighter ships going to and from Argus and Atlas at the daily that wouldn't catch a second glance from the cops. As for moving product across Vale and Vacuo, we have trucks and trains that can also hold product."

"There you have it," Jacques replied, "masterfully explained by my daughter. We can move your product, but only if you can guarantee Jimmy Ironwood's blessing. And, it's going to cost you."

"Very well," Cinder said. "I'll tell our president, Salem, that you're on board, and we'll come up with an offer to make you. I guarantee you'll be pleased."

Jacques crossed his arms.

"It's a serious risk to move drugs in this day and age," Jacques said. "You make sure you tell your president that when you come up with a number. Oh, and tell her that I want to do business with her directly next time. No more sending her lackeys to do her bidding."

Cinder responded at the dig with smirk.

"Of course, Mr. Schnee," Cinder said. "Now, I'm off to go warm myself up inside. I know you Schnees have acclimated yourselves to this frozen hell of a continent, but I'd rather go someplace with heating. Emerald, come."

Without a word, Emerald followed Cinder outside like an obedient puppy. Both sauntered towards the exit of the courtyard and entered inside. Weiss envied the two, as they were able to go inside and warm up, while she was stuck outside with her family as she could feel her face numbing and skin cracking from the cold.

"Well, Father," Whitley said, "I'm off to warm myself as well-"

"Not so fast," Jacques said as he rapidly approached Whitley.

"If you ever go bringing in some idiots like that into our business again, I will personally disavow you," Jacques said. "Do you hear me, you little shit?"

"Father, I-"

"No excuses!" Jacques barked. "Now, I'll ask you again-do you understand?"

A mask of broken shame settled onto Whitley's face. Weiss had never seen her brother so defeated before.

"And you," Jacques said, turning to Weiss.

"Don't you ever try to lecture me on what's right or wrong for the company. I get to decide, cause I'm in charge. Not you," Jacques said, his words shooting towards Weiss like harpoons through her heart.

Jacques gave the two of them one last menacing glare, before he marched back towards the offices, likely to take his reign of terror out on whatever poor board members had a meeting with him next.

Weiss glanced over at Whitley. To her shock, she saw something she never saw Whitley do - cry. Granted, it was a single tear, streaking down his left eye, but Weiss could see it gleaming in the winter wind. Whitley saw Weiss was staring, and quickly wiped his tear away and put his insolent behavior back on display.

"What are you looking at?" Whitley said confrontationally. "You going to yell at me too, huh?"

"Whitley, no, I-"

"Just leave me alone," Whitley whined in the tone of an angry, upset middle schooler as he stormed past her and followed his father out the door. Gone was Whitley's refined style as he practically stomped through the thin layer of snow and back into the offices.

Weiss was alone now in the courtyard, only the howling of the winds keeping her company. For some odd reason, Weiss no longer felt the numbing chill coursing through her body. Maybe it was the anger and hatred for her father for being too much of a bullhead to even acknowledge Weiss's concern, or maybe it was the adrenaline of such an...eventful meeting. Either way, Weiss no longer had the urge to rush back in, where her father and brother were. Weiss wanted to walk to the center of the courtyard instead.

When Weiss was young, she remembers being brought with her siblings to the courtyard by her mother. Her and Winter would always rush to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, giggling and laughing, and try to splash each other with water. Whoever was more soaked at the end was the loser, but the only punishment for losing was having soggy clothes.

Her mother would smile as she watched the two playing, even joining in sometimes, but towards the end she would just retreat to a lawn chair somewhere else in the courtyard with a bottle of wine. Whitley, on the other end, never joined in, and just roamed the garden in admiration of the well-trimmed shrubs and flowers.

The fountain was long gone now, removed after complaints of leaking from the Procurement department on the floor below. In its stead was a large statue with a bust of the SDC's logo: a lone snowflake. Its cracked, grey cobblestone appearance looked ghastly to Weiss, and only served as a reminder that she was locked in her family's own corporate hell.

Weiss stuffed her hands in her pockets as the statue loomed over her. The snowdrift was now beginning to coat the statue and its base. Weiss began to feel a thin layer of snow beginning to build up on her shoulder as well, but she didn't mind it. In fact, she sort of missed when it snowed like this in Atlas. This was the winter that she had grown up in and that she secretly looked forward to every year before she left Atlas for college, and then to work in Vale.

Weiss's phone rang in her pocket, vibrating against her hand. The buzz of the phone broke her out of her little reminiscing trance and back into the real world. She knew that whoever was on the other end of the phone was probably some executive or manager that she'd have to greet politely, but secretly loath.

Weiss took the phone out of her pocket to see who the caller was. To her surprise, she saw a familiar name: Klein Sieben, her assistant. Weiss swiped across her phone to answer.

"Hello?" Weiss said.

"Frau Schnee?" said the warm, grandfatherly voice on the other end.

"Yes, it is! How are you, Klein?" Weiss quipped, a little too loud and excited she realized. But she couldn't contain her excitement of hearing a friendly voice after such a hectic meeting.

"I'm well, Frau Schnee, thank you," Klein said. "I must ask - is your brother Whitley around?"

"No, he isn't," Weiss said. "Why do you ask? Should I fetch him?"

"Well, *ahem* Ms. Schnee, I must tell you that I have dire news from Vacuo, and I would think it's best you tell your brother-"

"What is it, Klein?" Weiss asked, her impatience getting the better of her.

"Well, Frau Schnee, there's been a robbery at the First Vacuo Credit Union branch near the border of Vale. And someone has stolen our business ledger from the security deposit box."


End file.
